


Rendevous

by lovingoikawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Minific, No spoilers really but just to be safe!, Post Chapter 402, Post-Time Skip, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingoikawa/pseuds/lovingoikawa
Summary: Oikawa is in town and Ushijima just has to visit.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 123





	Rendevous

“He could have taken my hands off with how hard he spiked the ball!” Hinata exclaims as the squad of starters are unwinding themselves from the match against Russia, the scent of sweat still fresh on both clothing and skin.

Iwaizumi only scowls, a look of disapproval on his face as he peers over at the most exhaustive of his charges as the athletic trainer for Japan’s male volleyball team. “Don’t you ever stop with your dramatic quips? You play professionally now, I would have expected this to stop long ago.”

“You’re giving him too much credit.” Kageyama is sure to chirp in with a gentle slap of the back of the fluffy orange hair with program of the game. “He’s just as annoying as he is good at volleyball.”

Ushijima keeps to himself, as he typically does when in the locker rooms after the matches, no longer burdened with the role of captain of the team. It is not the first time a light hearted quarrel has been produced among the two teammates, even if their positions on the team are relatively recent, and most certainly it will not be the last. Ushijima doesn’t keep track of that sort of thing, he has figured that these pesky little arguments are natural between the two that they solve in their own way. Or so Ushijima reasons with himself, with the preference not wishing to involve himself between the two hotheads, as much as he’s become fond of them.

He has already dressed himself in one of his clean track styled jackets when a text arrives. The screen of his phone lights up and displays the box of text and attached to the box is an image to indicate the contact. Most notable is the silk waves of brown hair that are a charming mess, slender fingers posed in a peace sign, a grin that is genuine grasping his face.

The selfie had been taken the day before his return to Argentina. 

_Your match should be done by now, shouldn’t it? It’s soooooo boring at the hotel!_ Reads the text, the voice of the other easily coming to his mind.

_The match has finished. We won._ Ushijima texts back with very little detail, though it is always straight to the point. As always, he attaches the result of his match for good measure.

So you’ll be in a happy mood when you come see me tonight? That is great to hear!

_ I’m always happy to see you. _

_ Of course, I know that. But it’s always sweeter when you have a victory under your belt, huh? _

_ I suppose so. _

_ Anyways, Wakatoshi. I’ve attached the information of my hotel on the text. Should be easy enough to follow. _

Another flash across the screen and enters the the location of the hotel being spoken of. It is sleek and modern, very classy as one might expect for a five star. He appears to have been raking in more than just a humble amount of money.

_ I will see you there. _

_ I wish I could read the enthusiasm in your text. Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to it. _

Conveniently, the hotel’s just a few blocks down from his apartment building. It is a fashionable part of the city after all, frequented by the wealthy and the famous and those like him. Athletes bringing in a more than decent salary each year. Though his apartment is luxurious, the decorations are modest and colors humble, as simple as Ushijima would like to envision. The personal touches come through the tastefully placed photographs and awards he has collected through his volleyball career. The other additions that are personal are the many plants that dot the apartment, either blossoming with full color or bright green with good health.

The photographs are mainly a collection of his most valued memories, from his time as Shiratorizawa captain to the week long private vacation that had been a treat from Oikawa. 

Ushijima only spends a few sparse moments in his apartment, all the time there is for his shower, quick and ever refreshing, to clean himself from the sweat of the match. He takes to dressing himself in a nice cashmere turtleneck and patterned slacks as well as the pair of Berluti leather shoes that Oikawa had insisted on buying him. He is the portrait of a man well established in his confidence and he further compliments himself by taming the short locks of olive hair and giving himself a dash of cologne.

He truly does wish to impress Oikawa with his appearance.

It is a span of twenty minutes between his entrance in the door and his departure, gift for Oikawa in his possession. This once he calls for a taxi to take him to the hotel, it is a short enough distance not to require the metro and he does not desire the ruination of his carefully crafted appearance in the chilled winds of coming night. The short drive provides little room for spoken communication, though Ushijima is sure to give the driver a nice tip for the service.

It is an even shorter ride on the elevator to the position of the twelfth floor and there is not a soul to accompany him. It gives Ushijima time to observe himself in the mirrored walls of the compartment, assuring that there is not a flaw in his appearance. By the time he’s comfortably analyzed his appearance, the lift has reached its destination, a little ring his indication to step forward and out.

As it turns out, Oikawa has been granted a period of three weeks as his break from international duty and allows his travel to wherever he desires. Destinations that includes his native Japan.

“Well, aren’t you looking all jazzed up and fancy?” Is the first thing that Oikawa says as he sees him, arms curling about Ushijima’s neck. Oikawa himself is all comfortable in his sweats, feet bare save for a pair of woolen socks. It leaves Ushijima the task of shutting the door and placing the gift upon one of the tables positioned in the rather large hotel room. Oikawa sports the same, nearly shy smile he had the last time they were together, a smile that always warmed his heart. “You know I would have been simply happy with your sports clothing.”

“I wanted to look nice for you.” Ushijima admits easily even as Oikawa’s fingers curl sensually into the softness of the turtleneck.

“Ooh. Cashmere. How fancy.” His expression is curious, though a tease plays upon his lips as he once more trails his finger against the turtleneck. “I do wonder where you got your fashion sense.”

Neither of them possess any amount of awareness for the sense of fashion. 

“Sakusa actually.” Though Ushijima is beginning to think now is not the time for talking. As he is drawn towards the queen sized bed tucked neatly into the corner, decorate dwith sets and pillows of rich creams and the warmth of yellow. 

Oikawa’s intentions are telling enough as he lays about the bead and curls his legs in an almost fetal position, the space next to him offered to Ushijima. He answers the silent call with his own silence, his weight dipping into the the bed and nearly immediately does he feel the comforting warmth of the body of Oikawa, head resting upon his shoulder.

“God, how I missed this.” Oikawa’s voice is but a murmur, the words blurring into one another as he melts into the relaxation. “Just being near you.” At times there is difficulty in ever believing that he would have said those words to Ushijima and yet here they are, together against one another, a trail of kisses being pressed into Ushijima’s sharp jawline.

Ushijima himself is ever silent as Oikawa continues, for he’s not exactly talented with continuing the conversation even if it is between only the two of them. Though he peers at Oikawa, his gaze pensive as he takes in the rich brown waves that occasionally brush against his skin in a tickle.

“Have you ever just thought about this?” Oikawa questions him as he finishes his work of affection, hand lazily laying upon Ushijima’s broad chest. “The thought of us cuddling and never leaving each other?”

“We would have to leave each other eventually. Staying together is impossible.” Even despite his words, Oikawa is closer than ever, his breath warm against Ushijima’s neck.

“You know what I mean, Wakatoshi.” He can feel the pout into his skin. “Didn’t you ever just miss us laying together and doing nothing?”

“Of course.” Simply he says, the words of admission easier than what Ushijima expected. The latter thoughts would never make it to his lips, but every day he reaches out in the morning, always disappointed when he is not greeted by a familiar warmth. “It is very peaceful, is it not?”

“You always had such a direct way of describing things.” Oikawa laughs, another nuzzle into the space between Ushijima’s neck and shoulder.

He’s always had a flair for being on the more affectionate side as Ushijima has come to experience. But none of his affection is superficial, such a far cry from the fake flirtations and less than real smiles he has flashed at many of his admirers. His affections aren’t merely done for a display, they are affections that are expressions of his love and they only appear overdone because it is really quite a hard thing to earn Oikawa’s heart and ultimately his love. Ushijima has always felt so grateful that he had managed to win Oikawa over and being on the receiving end of his love, for Oikawa has so much to give and express.

Very little will know the depth of Oikawa under the surface of pretty flatteries and the persona he wears during volleyball that is seemingly invincible and endlessly confident. 

Ushijima does not press forward with the conversation and rather takes in the moments of cuddling with great joy, muscles relaxing from the intensity of the day and heart expanding with the happiness to finally see and touch Oikawa in the flesh. Of course, his heart is not expanding in reality, but rather in a metaphorical sense (he has come to understand the usage of metaphors and meanings thanks to the guidance of his friends and teammates).

“You know, I could just fall asleep like this.” Oikawa says, the yawns that come between his words only indications of his state of exhaustion. “Tucked into you and without a care in the world.”

“Well, why don’t you?” Ushijima says with a lift of an eyebrow, confusion briefly touching his features. He would not mind at all if Oikawa falls asleep against him, and rather, it would likely lull him to the state of sleep as well.

“I want to see you, Wakatoshi.” His gaze is raised in peering at the other, though the dark eyes are clouded with exhaustion, an ill effect of the jet lag that is a constant in frequent travel. “Not just be by you, but actually see you in person. You’re not just someone in my dreams.”

“You dream about me?” He knows not the reason why, but those words are so touching to his heart that a tinge of a blush dusts his tanned face.

“Of course I do, silly!” Oikawa says with a tone that seems to make it most obvious. “We haven’t seen each other in months and you’re the one I love the most. Why wouldn’t I dream about you?”

“I don’t remember my dreams.” His voice has been lowered, words quiet with the briefest emotion of shame that his passion fades in comparison to Oikawa’s own.

Nevertheless, this passion is what he loves most about Oikawa.

“Of course you don’t.” His tone is teasing once more and Oikawa props himself up onto his elbows, body hovering right above Ushijima. “But no matter.” Pecks of kisses are given against Ushijima’s cheeks. “I know really well that you love me very much. Otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing those Berluti shoes that you absolutely despise.”


End file.
